


What If We Were There

by Yozora



Category: Heavy Rain
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yozora/pseuds/Yozora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Ethan giving the origami box to the police.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Trial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperpug](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=paperpug).



> So [paperpug](http://paperpug.tumblr.com/) over at Tumblr made a post about what if Ethan actually took the origami box to the police and how things would go if Blake and Jayden actually went through the trials.
> 
> She said "imagine", and boy, did I ever.
> 
> This is the first part. I wasn't initially going to make this a series, but Real Life and consequently Writer's Block happened, and now I've been sitting on this bit for months, and...I just want to get it out there? Mostly I just wanted to show it to paperpug, who is the sole reason this even came to be. So, here it is! I promise, the other parts are in the works, too!
> 
> (Rating and warnings may be subject to change!)

They’ve just come to the conclusion that Korda is, in fact, a dead-end, Jayden appearing more put-out by the outcome than anyone as he nurses a cut and a darkening bruise on his temple with an ice pack, when the surveillance room phone suddenly rings. Ash picks it up, Blake and Jayden exchanging dark, frustrated glances as he talks; neither of them quite know where to go from here or which approach to take next.

“Got it”, Ash is saying before hanging up and turning his attention back to Blake and Jayden. “Ethan Mars, Shaun Mars’s father, is here.”

The mirroring looks of surprised bafflement would be enough to make a lesser man laugh out loud.

“Again?” Jayden asks, eyebrows raised at the exact same moment as Blake’s pull into a frown as he mutters, “The hell does he want so soon?”

Jayden aims a somewhat exasperated sideways glance at his partner as they all stand up to file out of the surveillance room to meet Ethan on the main precinct floor. “What?” Blake grouches, hands spread out in a defensive gesture, “I told him we’d work on it!”

“Ever the public servant number one”, Jayden quips while tossing the ice pack on a random near-by desk in passing. “Did it actually occur to you he might have more leads? That he’s here to _help_?”

Blake only scoffs. “Damn well better. Seeing as your – “, here he elbows Jayden in the ribs, “ – leads have all yielded shit so far.”

 

It turns out Ethan _does_ have something new.

“I got this letter”, he says, tossing the envelope on the desk next to what appears to be a shoebox. “Inside was a locker ticket. That – “, he nods towards the box, “ – was in the locker.”

With a raised eyebrow, Blake picks up the envelope and unfolds the letter inside, as Jayden pulls the lid off the box to peer inside.

“And you think this has something to do with your son’s disappearance?” Blake is asking as his eyes scan the letter, an edge of _‘what the hell?’_ to his frown.

“Pretty sure it does”, Jayden speaks up before Ethan can say anything, the slightly awed tone of his voice prompting Blake to turn his attention to the box.

Five origami figures, all numbered, a cellphone with a memory card and…a gun.

Sharing a look with Jayden, Blake reaches in to unfold the figure marked with “1”, the one shaped like a bear, while the agent does the same to a butterfly, marked “2”.

“Blake, this—“, Jayden starts to say, but stops himself as Blake in turn picks up the memory card and wordlessly inserts it into the cellphone. Peering over Blake’s shoulder, Jayden can see the words _“how far are you prepared to go to save someone you love?”_ appear on the screen, followed by an explanation of the origami figures.

“Uh-huh”, Blake says at length, voice betraying absolutely nothing, before turning to address Ethan again. “Thank you, Mr. Mars, we’ll see what we can make of these.”

Ethan looks perplexed for a second, perhaps expecting more, before turning to leave with the plea of “Please find my son”.

The look on Jayden’s face, when Blake turns back to look at him, is equally perplexed, if not slightly more frustrated.

“Blake”, the agent is saying, “you do realize these are probably from the Origami Killer?”

“Bullshit”, Blake scoffs, causing Jayden to pin him with a confused frown. “This is bullshit, all of this. Why the hell would they do something like this? It’s some freak playing a game, trying to be funny and cash in on the fame. Shit like this is never real, Jayden.”

The frown on Jayden’s face is quickly turning into something resembling a scowl. “We don’t know that, Blake! What if these are real? The set-up is certainly elaborate enough. Look, each of the origami figures has an address. If we go to these places, maybe attempt these so-called trials—“

”I can’t believe you’re _actually_ thinking that we should do this”, Blake huffs over him, expression and voice heavy with incredulous irritation.

”And I can’t believe you’re not”, Jayden retorts, voice sounding genuinely baffled. “Blake, the killer could be there! In fact, I’m willing to bet that he is, _watching_. We could catch him on one of these sites!”

“And I’m willing to bet this is all a hoax and we’ll only be wasting time we don’t have, playing around with these. Why the hell would the killer leave clues about himself like this?”

Jayden’s lips form a thin, stubborn line as he crosses his arms over his chest in a familiarly defiant gesture. “Fine”, he says, face hard and closed-off. “You don’t want to investigate these, then don’t. But I came here to catch a killer, Carter, and I believe this is how we’ll find him. With or without you, I’m going.”

For a moment, the two only stare at each other, both daring the other to back down, the tension between them tangible enough that you could cut it with a knife. Finally Blake shrugs carelessly, if not obviously irately. “Suit yourself, _Norman_. And when you find out what a massive waste of time your little goose chase is, I’ll be here with the ‘I told you so’.”

 

*

 

Jayden hopes he doesn’t look as bemused as he feels as he presents the ticket at the garage and asks for “his” car. The old mechanic isn’t much help as he discreetly attempts to inquire for details about the person who left them the car, while trying not to obvious about how out of the loop he actually is. In the end, he is only able to confirm that the car has been there a while – two years, which only solidifies Jayden’s belief that he’s on the right track – and that it’s been checked and maintained regularly, as per “his” request.

“You’re one patient fellow, though!” the mechanic jokes as he directs Jayden to take the elevator to the bottom floor.

Jayden only quirks a strained half-smile in response. He’d hoped talking to the mechanic would yield more, possibly even resulting him in _not_ having to actually complete the trial – but apparently he’s out of luck. Again.

The car, once he locates it, doesn’t offer any more leads, either. It’s just a typical, boring brown sedan that reveals precious little, even with ARI. For a moment, Jayden simply stands in front of it, chewing the inside of his cheek. Despite his bravado in front of Blake earlier, he is hesitant about this “trial” thing. He’s not sure what precisely it will entail, but the ominousness of the words _‘ARE YOU WILLING TO SHOW COURAGE TO SAVE YOUR SON?’_ , coupled with the involvement of a car, doesn’t exactly fill him with hope.

Briefly, he finds himself actually wishing that Blake was here with him. He’s a capable enough driver in his own right, but somehow he has the feeling that the lieutenant might be somewhat more well-versed in the art of the kind of driving he assumes will be called for here.

_Just do it_ , he tells himself sternly – but just as he lays his hand on the door handle, he feels a hand settle on the curve of his lower back. Startled, he whirls around, only to come face to face with –

“Blake?” Jayden blurts out, surprise written on his face as he blinks at the older cop.

“Figured it was going to be something like this. No way am I letting your pansy ass drive”, the older cop shrugs, obviously aiming for casual.

Jayden’s eyebrow cocks questioningly. “And what happened to all of this being bullshit?”

“Hey, I can still leave, if you’d rather.”

Jayden rolls his eyes, making a mental note of how, despite his words, Blake’s hand is still resting on the small of his back. It makes a knowing smile twitch at the corner of his mouth, one he doesn’t quite bother erasing before bumping his shoulder lightly against his partner’s. “All yours, then”, he quips, sliding out from under Blake’s arm and into the passenger side.

It takes a brief moment of _‘what the hell now?’_ before they locate the GPS in the glove compartment. Jayden is aware of Blake shooting him a still somewhat unconvinced look at the non-descriptive instructions the gadget gives them, nothing more than directions to an undisclosed destination.

“Just…follow them, I suppose”, Jayden is forced to respond lamely, with a helpless shrug.

Blake fires a sharp look at him that Jayden fairly easily interprets as Blake reminding him just how much he still thinks this might be bullshit, but starts up the car anyway, following the metallic female voice as it drones the navigational instructions to their destination.

 

After only a few short miles, spent in silence except for the GPS, just outside the city the female voice suddenly announces that they have reached their destination.

They share a meaningful, on-edge glance, and Jayden has just enough time to read the _‘this better be good’_ in Blake’s eyes before the GPS is barrelling on, emotionlessly relating the requirements of the trial. _“Take the highway and drive against the traffic for five miles. If you haven’t reached your destination in five minutes, you will have failed.”_

Jayden feels colour drain from his face. “That’s… Five miles in five minutes, _against_ freeway traffic? This is crazy!”

“Good thing I decided to come along, then”, Blake only quips, although there is a certain tightness to the edge of his smirk.

“Blake, that’s suicide waiting to happen”, Jayden feels the need to point out.

“Well, instructions _did_ call for courage”, Blake reminds him with a teasingly cocked eyebrow, “which is why _I’m_ driving.”

Jayden turns a wide-eyed look towards his partner, mouth working uselessly.

“Look”, Blake continues through a frustrated sigh, although one of his hands does land on Jayden’s knee, “you’re the one who wanted to do these. And now we’re here. So you can either stop being a chickenshit and actually let me do this, or go back to your currently non-existent leads.”

Jayden feels a flush of heat on his face at that, though he’s unsure whether it’s from embarrassment or irritation.

“So which is it gonna be?” Blake prompts him impatiently from the driver’s seat.

“Just…don’t get us killed”, Jayden mutters, relenting with a resigned sigh and settling more firmly into his seat, as if that’s going to somehow keep him safer.

The grin blossoming on Blake’s face is just a step down from downright feral, all sharp edges of self-confidence. “Better buckle up. Now watch and learn.”

 

Any retort Jayden might have thought up dies in his throat as Blake all but _slams_ his foot down on the accelerator, the engine revving furiously before the car shoots forward. For a brief flicker of a moment Jayden almost feels relief that it isn’t the typical rush hour time on the freeway, but that sentiment gets lost equally fast, because there are still enough on-coming cars, horns blaring as Blake weaves past them, to make him cling to his seat with a white-knuckled grip. The grey curtain of rain beating down on the windshield isn’t exactly helping, either, reducing visibility to almost nothing.

His stomach gives an especially horrifying lurch at the road-side workers that barely manage to dive out of their way, his left hand shooting out to grab a fistful of Blake’s sleeve.

“Blake—“ he starts to say, voice urgent and wavering despite himself.

“Shut up, Jayden!” Blake snaps, trying not to lose his concentration, “I see it, I know what I’m doing!”

Swallowing down any further comments or protests, Jayden bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep quiet, hard enough the he can soon taste blood, but doesn’t relinquish his hold on Blake’s sleeve. In fact, he’s distantly worried that he might be tearing the fabric as the car loses its traction on the wet road for one heart-stopping moment, threatening to spin after Blake manoeuvres it between two larger cars with _just_ enough space. Somehow, though, the car stays facing the right way, and if Jayden weren’t so busy fearing for both of their lives, he’d be infinitely impressed with the skilled and focused way Blake is handling the wheel despite the situation.

His heart finally threatens to stop at the sight of the toll gate, most of the lanes occupied.

“Blake— Blake, there’s no room!” The words spill out in a near-panicked rush before Jayden can catch them.

“Shut up, yes, there is!” Blake counters, irritation and stress in his voice as he steps on the accelerator even more, the car picking up speed and scraping its side on the side barrier – Jayden imagines he can see sparks flying from the corner of his eye – in passing before diving past one of the cars leaving the toll gate, only barely avoiding a full-on collision.

As luck would have it, there are a handful of police cars standing by at the toll gate, and they immediately pick up on the car driving so recklessly in the wrong direction, their sirens blaring as they hasten after them.

“Those fucking idiots, the fuck do they think they’re doing!” Blake grouches, sparing a split-second glance in the rear-view mirror.

“This isn’t your usual car, Blake”, Jayden tries to reason, making a cautiously relieved mental note of the GPS announcing that there’s only one more mile to go, “they probably don’t know it’s you, unless you told—“

“No, I didn’t”, Blake grimaces irately, though whether it’s at his own oversight or at the situation in general, Jayden can’t quite tell. “Was in too much of hurry to come and save your ass.”

“Appreciated, I guess”, Jayden finds it in himself to smile briefly, but the smile quickly turns into an ugly grimace as one of the police cars crashes with an on-coming car Blake only _very_ nearly manages to avoid by again scraping the side of the car against the side barrier.

“Jesus”, Jayden mutters, glancing back to try and see the damage, but the cars have already faded behind a curtain of rain and other cars.

“Don’t even have radio to tell those idiots to back off…” Blake is muttering, again stepping on the accelerator in an effort to shake the last two police cars that seem to have already been hindered by their colleague’s accident. He’s just about to instruct Jayden to use his cell phone to call the dispatch, when the GPS utters the long-awaited words: _“Destination reached.”_

“Fucking finally!” Blake huffs, echoing Jayden’s sentiments, while jerking the wheel forcefully to swerve the car to the side of the road, away from the on-coming traffic – perhaps a little _too_ forcefully, as the car spins, then rolls over once, then a second time, sliding down the sloppy side of the highway.

 

The next thing Jayden becomes aware of is Blake urgently calling his name over the emotionlessly droning, metallic voice of the GPS. Something about the glove compartment…

“Jayden! For fuck’s sake, Norman! Hey, snap out of it!” Blake is shouting, shaking him by the shoulder.

_Why am I upside down?_ Jayden finds himself thinking blearily for a second before Blake is shaking him again. This time the clear smell of something burning hits his nose.

“Are we on fire?” he asks intelligently, the thought sobering him up considerably.

“Oh, for the love of… Yes!” Blake grumbles, possibly rolling his eyes, through beating the GPS against the car ceiling. It makes Jayden raise a mystified eyebrow. “The thing is in the glove compartment, the key’s in here, we need to… Here!” The GPS finally gives way under the abuse, shattering in Blake’s hand, and the lieutenant is quick to separate the key and shove it towards Jayden. “Get it, we need to get the fuck out!”

Despite his slightly confused state, Jayden doesn’t need to be told twice, grabbing the key and fumbling to open the glove compartment. It takes a bit of coordinating in his upside-down position, but he finally manages, a memory card for the cell phone tumbling out.

“Got it!” he calls, hastily sealing it inside his fist while setting to unbuckling himself.

“Great, now get the fuck out of the car”, Blake coughs from the ceiling-turned-floor, having already unbuckled himself and working on getting the door open.

With a nod, though he is unsure whether Blake even sees it, Jayden sets to work on his seatbelt. The car is already rapidly filling with smoke, making it hard to breathe without coughing or feeling like he’s choking. His mind not entirely cooperating, his fingers feel unnaturally thick and sluggish, failing to work the clasp of the seatbelt for a second. “Blake, wait, I think it’s—“ he starts, only to be interrupted by the sound of feet meeting metal, _hard_ and repeatedly, until Blake finally manages to kick the door on the driver’s side open just enough to have room to crawl out.

The surprise, and the brief rush of air, is all Jayden’s fingers apparently need to work the mechanism, his seatbelt springing open and sending him tumbling out of his seat into a heap on the ceiling.

“Norman?” Blake is calling for him, already outside the car, urgency and perhaps what might be a small edge of fear to his voice.

“Yeah…” Jayden coughs, righting himself enough to crawl towards and out of the driver’s side door, Blake’s strong hands wrapping around his wrists and yanking him the rest of the way out, straight into the older cop’s arms before Blake is ushering them hurriedly away from the burning car.

 

It isn’t until they are what Blake deems a safe distance away that the older cop slumps against a structure of a bridge on the freeway, leaning his weight against it heavily while still holding Jayden under his arm.

“You okay?” he asks, giving Jayden an obviously worried look.

“Yeah… yeah…” Jayden huffs, breath laboured as he leans his weight gratefully against his partner’s.

“Good”, Blake nods, fingers squeezing reassuringly around Jayden’s shoulder. “You got it?”

Jayden lifts his left hand, fist clenched in a death grip around the memory card. “Right here”, he huffs through a cough, followed by an incredulous shake of his head. “That was crazy…”

Blake grins, adrenaline-fuelled. “Not too bad, if I do say so myself.”

“ _’Not too bad’_?” Jayden echoes, shooting _a look_ at Blake. “You didn’t tell me you could drive like that!”

Blake only shrugs. “Had to drive against the traffic once or twice after a suspect.”

“Figures”, Jayden shakes his head again, though this time he is definitely grinning, too.

They share a long, lingering look after that, both of their breathing still settling as they lean against the structure. At length, Blake raises his gloved hand to sweep his fingers over Jayden’s face. “Look at you, covered it soot and dirt.”

Jayden quirks a tentative smile at that, before grasping Blake by the lapels of his coat and bringing their mouths together in a quick but hungry kiss, the urgency of it fuelled by adrenaline and their near-scrape with serious injury.

Blake responds by grasping Jayden briefly behind the neck and around the curve of his hip, momentarily deepening the kiss before pulling away – though not without obvious reluctance.

“C’mon”, he says, jerking his head towards the sound of the blaring police sirens coming down the freeway while grabbing Jayden by the arm and steering away from the scene. “Let’s get the hell out of here before they come and actually arrest us.”

Jayden can’t help the burst of laughter bubbling up past his lips. “I’d like to see them try.”


	2. Second Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess posting something early does sometimes pay off. All the nice comments I got on the first part, _especially from paperpug_ left me so ridiculously inspired to continue this, not to mention deliciously Block-free, that I spent most of last night writing this, the second part. So here it is, I hope it lives up to expectations at least a little bit!

Jayden exits the bathroom of his hotel room, trying to wipe away the last streaks of grime from his face on a wet towel, only to find Blake leaning against the wall, still replaying the video that they’d discovered on the memory card. The video is blurry and short, the image quality leaving a lot to be desired, but it is fairly obviously a child being held captive in a well rapidly filling with water. The video ends in a hangman puzzle, with now only a couple of random letters and a number filled in. It is impossible to figure out what the message is – and they’d certainly tried.

In Jayden’s mind, at least, it leaves little doubt as to whether these trials are actually the real deal or not.

“Well?” he can’t resist asking with a microscopic quirk of his lips as he comes to stand next his partner, just as video cuts out again.

“’Well’ _what_?” Blake grumbles, tone clearly indicating just how unhappy he is to be proven wrong – _especially_ as Jayden is simultaneously being proven right.

Jayden has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from outright chuckling at the predictable behaviour. “Nothing”, he says airily instead. “We should check out the next origami figure, right?”

Blake lets out a gruff sound that is possibly an affirmative before tossing the cellphone on Jayden’s bed with an irate flick of his wrist. “This is such fucking bullshit”, he mumbles under his breath with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as Jayden digs into the cardboard box he’d brought back from the precinct with him for the origami labelled with “2”. The butterfly.

 _‘ARE YOU PREPARED TO SUFFER TO SAVE YOUR SON? THE OLD POWERPLANT ON EMBARCADERO STREET’_ , it reads.

“Because driving against freeway traffic isn’t suffering enough, I suppose”, Blake scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I suppose”, Jayden agrees faintly, his mouth a tight, deeply uncomfortable line. He doesn’t like the sound of this.

Blake gives him what might constitute as a concerned look, opening his mouth to say something, but Jayden cuts him off with a sharp shake of his head and a clipped “let’s go, we’ve got to catch this guy and save Shaun Mars”.

“Stubborn asshole”, the older lieutenant mutters with a headshake of his own as he watches Jayden stride out of the hotel room without even checking if his partner is following him.

 

*

 

It’s already dark by the time they pull up in front of the old powerplant.

“Looks abandoned”, Jayden comments cautiously, peering at the silent, dark building through the rain-soaked car windows.

“It is”, Blake confirms, though his tone is edgy, bordering on suspicious. “Or at least it’s _supposed_ to be.”

“All the better for a trial, I guess”, Jayden hums tightly, before his eyes land on something through the wet darkness. “Blake. Is that a butterfly painted on the wall?”

Blake leans over to follow the agent’s line of sight. “Well fuck. Sure looks like it.”

They share a brief, wary look, before on an unspoken agreement exiting the car.

“Got your gun?” Blake asks, voice barely above the noise of the falling water.

“Yeah”, Jayden nods, hand automatically going to confirm the presence of his sidearm. “I wish it would stop god damn raining, though. It’s hard to see anything.”

Blake only scoffs. “Welcome to Philadelphia, Mr. FBI. Let’s go.”

In the end, they have to climb over the high stone fence surrounding the perimeter, Blake boosting the more slender agent up and over.

“You just wanted a reason to touch my ass”, Jayden mock-grumbles as they head across the yard and duck under a broken chain link fence.

“I don’t need _a reason_ to touch your ass, Jayden. I can touch it any time I want to”, Blake points out with a ridiculously self-assured grin, hand moving to reach under the agent’s thick overcoat for the body part in question as if to prove a point.

“Yeah, but you wanted one anyway”, Jayden huffs, tone going almost playful despite the situation as he swats at the wayward hand, clumsily dodging out of its reach.

Their banter quickly dies down, though, as they step into a field of electrical condensers, their steady, ominous static hum filling the air.

“I thought you said this place was abandoned”, Jayden all but whispers, voice tight with the increasingly bad feeling rising in his gut.

“I said _it’s supposed to be_ ”, Blake points out, voice equally tense with nervous irritation. “Why the hell are these fuckers on?”

“Guess we’re about to find out”, Jayden says, nodding towards a door on the side of the building with a giant butterfly painted on it.

“Can’t wait”, Blake grouches, voice dripping with sarcasm as he follows his partner to the door in question. They spend a moment listening outside of it, but the constant crackling of electricity is the only discernable sound around them.

 _‘On three’_ , Blake mouths soundlessly and at Jayden’s nod, they pull their guns at the ready, and, as Blake counts down with his fingers, step through the door as one.

Only to be greeted by an empty room.

“This is some bullshit!” Blake snaps, starting to reach the end of his already short tether. “A fucking dead end? What the fuck is this guy playing at?”

Jayden purses his lips, inclined to agree as he tucks his gun back away. The room is furnished with nothing but a few pieces of machinery, the only door the one behind them. Until his eyes land on something that looks like a large furnace door on the far wall.

“It’s the only thing there is”, he says, turning to Blake with a shrug, who only shrugs back.

“Be my guest.”

The wheel crank is uncooperative, and Blake’s not-at-all-supportive grinning is not the least bit helpful, but eventually Jayden manages to pull the heavy door open with an unpleasant sound of metal grinding on metal. It echoes chillingly in the room. Inside is nothing but a long, pitch-dark tunnel, with a box of matches sitting at the entrance.

There is a long silence as both of them stare uncomfortably into the narrow blackness. Blake is the first to find his voice.

“Oh, hell no”, he says emphatically. “I’ve done some crazy shit with you, but this? No way _in hell_ am I crawling into that.”

The quirk that appears briefly at the corner of Jayden’s lips is stiff and more than a little wan. “You probably wouldn’t fit anyway.”

There’s the smallest beat of stunned silence, followed by a decidedly amused snort from Blake’s direction. “You saying I’m too big?”

The unapologetically _filthy_ tone of the question is enough to jar Jayden out of staring into the abyss in front of him to find Blake regarding him with a pointedly raised eyebrow and a grin to match.

 _Seriously?_ , asks the look he fires back at the older cop. “Does the concept _‘Not The Time’_ even mean anything to you, Carter?”

“Nope”, Blake quips back instantly, unrepentantly.

“Stop the presses”, Jayden mutters with a roll of his eyes, though his tone is clearly long-suffering with an edge of fondness.

Blake lets out a bark of laughter at that, before the gaping maw of the tunnel forces them to grow serious again.

“Well”, Jayden sighs at length, “I’d imagine one of us has to crawl in there if we ever want to get anywhere with this trial. And since we’ve established it’s not going to be you…”

“Jayden”, Blake states so firmly his words might as well be made out of granite, “no. _Hell no_. You don’t even know where it leads, or what’s in there!”

“I’m aware”, Jayden answers, and his tone speaks volumes of just _how_ aware he is. “But Blake”, he continues, turning serious eyes towards his partner, “if I don’t, Shaun Mars is going to drown.”

Jayden sees just how much sheer effort of will it takes for Blake to act like the police officer he is and not just say _‘fuck him’_ , and it makes him smile.

“So I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?” he says, proud of how steady his voice is despite the horrifying reality of what he’s about to do.

“Not the best choice of words there, FBI”, Blake shakes his head, and is that an edge of roughness to his voice?

“So it was”, Jayden huffs with a burst of strained laugh. “But the point stands. Be there”, he half-demands, half-asks, before quickly stepping right into Blake’s arms and sealing their mouths together.

The kiss is quick but heated, Jayden’s hands rumpling up the fabric of Blake’s coat while Blake’s grip is probably leaving bruises on Jayden’s hips.

“Idiot. Just make sure _you_ are”, Blake says gruffly against the agent’s lips before reluctantly separating himself. “This shit ain’t worth dying for.”

An odd look steals over Jayden’s face for the briefest second, as if there’s something about that he doesn’t quite agree with, but he says nothing further, instead turning to pull off his overcoat, which he hands to Blake, and shoving the matchbox in the pocket of his suit jacket. He doesn’t want to spend too much time speculating what they’re for, but figures he’d better bring them along anyway.

With a deep, deep breath that does absolutely nothing to steady his nerves, he gives one final glance at his partner, before, with a mutual nod, he climbs into the tunnel.

At first, the only thing he can concentrate on is the sound of Blake’s footsteps leaving the room and the door closing behind the lieutenant, the briefest sound of the pouring rain drifting in before getting cut off again. He can’t blame Blake for not staying longer to watch – not only would it be completely pointless, since there isn’t anything he could do to help anyway, but Jayden himself would certainly not want to stay to watch his partner crawl into the bowels of a powerplant, either, if their roles were reversed.

With another deep, calming breath he begins to move forward. The passage is thankfully not quite as narrow as it had initially appeared, and the light from behind—

As if reading his mind, the metal door swings suddenly closed behind him with a loud clang that shudders the whole tunnel, plunging everything into darkness.

“Blake?” Jayden calls out back behind himself, trying to kick at the door, even though the action is nonsensical and he knows it; why would Blake close the door behind him like that?

His heart lurching uncomfortably in his chest, Jayden tries to calm the panic threatening to rise up inside him.

“Okay, okay”, he mumbles to himself, pulling in deep breaths that still aren’t helping. “Okay, stay calm. Only one way to go, now. You can do it. It’s not that bad.”

He keeps repeating that in his mind, like a mantra, as he begins to drag himself forward again. The going is difficult and slow, the tunnel not spacious enough for moving on his hands and knees, but instead forcing him to crawl awkwardly half on his elbows, half on his stomach.

_Not that bad. Not that bad. Not that bad…_

In the darkness, he doesn’t see the glass until he sticks his elbow right into it, the huge shard slicing right through his jacket and into his flesh.

“ _Fuck_ ”, he hisses, cradling his injured arm against his chest for a moment, feeling a small, warm trickle on his fingers. _What the fuck?_

With a little difficulty, he reaches back into his pocket for the matches, struggling to light one. The nasty scent of sulphur briefly hits his nose in the confined space as the weak golden light illuminates a sight the makes Jayden’s eyes widen and stomach drop: a wall-to-wall sea of large, razor-sharp pieces of broken glass laid along the tunnel floor, as far the eye can see in the light of the match.

 _This is crazy_ , his mind supplies helpfully at him. _That’s going to tear me to shreds and bleed me out!_

Except what else was he going to do? The metal door behind him is shut and probably locked, and with Blake is long gone, there is no way to re-open it. The only thing he _can_ do is keep going.

The match burns his fingers and with an irate curse, Jayden throws it away, leaving the passage pitch-dark again.

 _Okay, slowly_ , he tells himself. _Slowly and carefully. It’ll hurt but you can do it._

And hurt it does. The first few moves forward are agonizing, making him groan into the empty silence around him at the feeling of the glass slicing into the skin of his arms, torso and legs.

_Keep going. Keep. Going._

With this new mantra, Jayden drags himself onward inch by painful inch, no longer keeping track of time or distance, only focused on getting himself wherever it is he’s going. Ultimately, while the pain doesn’t stop, his mind starts to become numb to it. He’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad sign. He doesn’t even _want_ to think about the blood smear he must be leaving behind, quickly banishing the entire thought from his head.

Several times he comes across a crossroads in the pipe, all the paths littered similarly with glass. The first time he spends a ridiculously long moment feeling lost, his pain-fogged brain taking a moment to process the situation. Eventually, he recalls the packet of matches in his pocket, using the flame to determine the direction of the air flow, reasoning it just might lead him to the exit, and then following it. Navigating the tight turns in such a narrow space tears long, painful gashes into his sides, bleeding profusely from the feel of it, but Jayden grits his teeth stubbornly and keeps going. It’s not like he has much of a choice.

Finally there is a light at the end of the tunnel, the tiredness of the analogy in this situation making him cringe and let out a sound that’s meant to be a laugh but sounds more like a sob. With a last few exhausted pulls, Jayden gratefully brings himself to the edge of the tunnel, through a similar opening to the one he crawled in through, before tumbling out completely gracelessly, his body too tired and abused to cooperate with anything more complicated.

For a moment he just lies there, curled up on his side, eyes closed, pulling in shallow breaths through his mouth. _Everything_ hurts and he doesn’t even want to look at the state of himself, doesn’t want to see his torn-up arms and legs.

 _Get up. Get up_ , Jayden tells himself, and even though his brain fires angry protests at him the whole while, he eventually manages to force himself to his feet, unsteady though they are.

The room he’s in is _tiny_ , with no doors or windows. The only features in it, besides some pipes, are the passage he just crawled in through, and another pipe entrance, down right by the floor. This one is even smaller and more narrow than the last one, looking barely wide enough for a person to fit through. A cold stab of nausea hits Jayden in the gut.

 _No way_ , the agent finds himself thinking, the mere idea making him ill as he peers into the pipe, the narrow darkness descending somewhere deep into the depths of the building.

But what else was he going to do? Go back? And what would that accomplish? Shaking his head, Jayden feels a grimace settle over his face as he pushes his feet into the pipe, followed by the rest of his body before he can think too much of it. _Please don’t let it be too narrow_ , he sends a prayer to no one in particular – and lets go.

It’s almost like a waterpark slide he used to go to as a kid, only a million times worse. He bangs his head on the metal walls several times and more than once he fears he may have actually gotten stuck, but finally the pipe spits him out onto a hard concrete floor, his momentum from the slide down sending him sprawling. For a moment, he lies there blinking, until the hum and crackle of electricity registers again in his ears.

With a stunned shake of his head, Jayden pulls himself to his feet for what feels like a hundredth time, before surveying his current surroundings.

What he sees almost makes his heart stop.

It’s another field of electrical condensers, angry blue arches of electricity jumping and weaving between them constantly. It doesn’t take an engineer to figure out the massive amount of current running through them – one touch will be more than enough to seriously burn him, if not downright kill him. And yet, at the other end of the room, on the far wall, a large painted butterfly sits staring at him. Which means…

“I can’t fucking believe this”, slips out his mouth before Jayden can stop himself. “Well, the clue was certainly right about the suffering part.”

Running an exhausted hand through his hair – realizing too late the bloody streaks he’s now left in it – Jayden makes his way to the nearest row on condensers. There’s several live wires running from one to the next, close together but perhaps wide enough apart for him to make his way through if he’s _very_ careful; a task in-and-off itself on any day, but as already injured and woozy with pain and blood loss…

 _And Blake is going to kill you himself if you die here, so might as well go for it_ , Jayden reasons at himself grimly and completely backwards, the corner of his mouth hiking up briefly at the thought, but damn if it isn’t the incentive he needs to step up at the first wall of live wires.

From the corner of his eyes he does actually spot a door in the corner of his end of the room, with the word ‘COWARD’ painted on it in bold letters, but he only gives it a cursory, fleeting consideration. _Can’t. Shaun Mars is going to die if I back out now._

It takes him a moment to figure out the best place to manoeuvre himself through the criss-cross of wires. There is actually no electricity arcing between them, but there is little doubt in Jayden’s mind as to whether they’re still live or not. The way the tiny hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck stand on end as he grouches and crawls under the wires is all the proof he needs.

The next few crossings are considerably harder. The constant streams of blue electricity crackling all around him as he stands right in the middle of the field are disorienting, making it difficult to determine the direction he should take. And the walls of live wire don’t exactly get any easier to pass the further he goes.

He is making his way through the last one, ducking down almost to a crawl to get under the wires, when it happens. His skin prickling uncomfortably with the nearness of the electrical current is the only warning he gets before the back of his shoulder snags on the wire.

The jolt blasting through him is unlike any pain Jayden’s ever felt before; enough to buckle his legs right from under him, a pained scream dying on his lips as he falls to the floor, somehow managing not to touch any of the other wires.

 _Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , is the only semi-coherent thought running through the agent’s mind as he curls in on himself, trying to concentrate on breathing instead of the burning pain in his shoulder. His skin feels like it’s melting away and the flesh beneath sizzling and boiling. The nauseating smell of burning flesh is enough to make him gag.

But the butterfly. It’s there, right there, if he only could…

Afterwards Jayden can’t recall how he got to his feet or how he walked the final few steps to the desk and grabbed the memory card waiting for him there. He just remembers the pain and the welcome darkness.

 

It takes some serious detective work for Blake to find his way in at the other end of the building and even more frustrated wandering through seemingly endless amount of collapsed rubble to locate the place where the trial ends. His first clue is the field of electrical condensers, almost blinding with the way it’s lit up with crackling electricity. His second is the butterfly painted on the wall.

“Jayden?” he calls out. The agent must’ve reached here by now. Unless…

“Jayden!” Blake calls out again, more forcefully this time. “You better not be fucking lying dead somewhere, you—“

His words are cut short as he catches sight of the distinctly Jayden-shaped heap, lying motionless on the ground at the end of a smeared blood trail.

“Holy fuck” bursts from the lieutenant’s lips at the same second as he takes off running, covering the distance separating them in a matter of seconds before skidding to halt next to the prone agent and kneeling down to him.

“Jesus christ, Norman”, Blake curses as he turns Jayden over none-too-gently and checks for a pulse. It’s not as strong as he’d like and the agent’s breathing is shallow and raspy, but at least he’s alive. For now.

“Holy fuck, what did you do, you fucking moron…” Blake continues his monologue, even though Jayden obviously isn’t able to answer him. Careful now, he gathers the unresponsive agent to himself, against his chest.

“Alright, come on, you idiot. I’ve got you, I’ve got you. Come on.”

Jayden finally makes a sound, pained and incoherent, as Blake hoists both of them up and to their feet, although the agent’s are hardly enough to support himself. Still, he keeps them standing, supporting the taller agent’s weight, and finally, in brief moment of lucidity, Jayden rouses enough to look at him, albeit blearily.

“Blake…” he slurs, thick enough that the word is nearly unintelligible.

“Hey, asshole”, Blake breaks out in a grin that in truth is more of an actual smile than Jayden can recall ever seeing off the top of his head. “Told you I’d be here.”

“Right…” Jayden manages, the corners of his own lips lifting in a still slightly incoherent smile. “Guess you sorta did.”

Blake rolls his eyes. Fucking agent logic. “You got it?”

As if in a déjà-vu, Jayden lifts his hand, fist clenched in a death-grip around something. How he managed to hold onto it while unconscious, Blake will never figure out. “Wouldn’t be worth it if I hadn’t.”

A scoff of laughter escapes Blake before he can stop it. _Smartass_ , he thinks. “That’s my boy”, he says instead, draping Jayden’s arm over his shoulder before starting to walk them back out.


	3. Third Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, here I am again, almost after A YEAR of doing fuck all with this. I'm so, so sorry for neglecting this story, or indeed blayden as a whole, but you know how it is: Real Life + The Tired + The Block happened. But then my sister and I happened to replay Heavy Rain last week and would you look at that, all the _feels_ came rushing right back! So here it is, the third chapter!  
>  Also, be warned: here there be NSFW, oops!

“So how was your day?” Blake quips tiredly with a sarcastic grin, arm lifted in invitation as Jayden, fresh from a long, hot shower, slumps down next to him on the couch with a bone-weary sigh. The hands of the clock on the wall have long since passed midnight.

Jayden snorts out a helpless laugh at that as he burrows gratefully under Blake’s arm. “Oh, excellent”, he says with exaggerated glee. “Only got nearly killed _twice_.”

Blake huffs a small laugh of his own, but it’s accompanied with long, evaluative look at the agent. “Jesus, you look like you just lost a fight against a shredder”, he says, reaching out to touch his fingers over the mess of criss-crossing cuts on Jayden’s bare arms.

“Implying I didn’t”, Jayden quips, eyes following Blake’s fingers for a few seconds before lifting them to aim a self-deprecating quirk of lips at his partner.

“Crazy asshole”, Blake mutters with a incredulous shake of his head, and Jayden could swear he hears a great deal more than just a tired barb in the tone. Blake’s hand is still resting on his arm, on the wounds that have for now stopped bleeding but will likely hurt for a long time. He distantly wonders if they will scar.

“Blake…” he starts, softly, finding the older lieutenant’s eyes still on him in the darkness of the room. But whatever he had been thinking of saying gets lost when Blake suddenly uses the hand on Jayden’s arm as gentle leverage to pull the agent tightly against himself, claiming his lips in a fierce kiss.

“You crazy fucking idiot…” Blake is saying into the kiss, voice heated between nips and small bites, and all Jayden can do is make an incoherent, surprised groan in reply as he answers the kiss with equal heat.

Blake’s hands are surprisingly gentle and careful despite the intensity of his kiss as he slides them over Jayden’s wounded skin, one finding its way under the hem of the agent’s worn t-shirt to caress the delicate muscles of his abdomen, while the other moves to tangle in the short strands of hair at the back of his head.

“Blake…” Jayden gasps again, his stomach muscles jumping and quivering under the heated touch. The wounds no longer so much hurt as they do _tingle_ , sending warmth gathering low in his abdomen. He is loosely aware that he should be worried about the bleeding starting up again, but it is becoming harder and harder by the second to care as he clings to Blake’s shoulders, trying to push himself more into the touch.

The position is awkward, though, for the both of them, having to angle their necks and bodies to reach each other. With an impatient groan, Jayden starts to shift, turning to lift himself to stand on his knees on the couch at the same time as Blake moves, too, with an equally impatient growl as he rights himself to lean over Jayden, urging him to lie back with his own weight and the hand still supported at the back of the agent’s neck.

The new position puts Blake’s knee deliciously between Jayden’s legs and the agent lets out a breathy moan of approval, pressing himself against the pressure while gratefully lowering himself down onto his back – until the movement chafes against the raw, angry burn on his shoulder, causing a sharp, pained hiss to escape into the kiss as his whole body tenses for a second.

“Shit”, Blake curses pointedly, immediately breaking the kiss to pull back. “Let me see that.”

“No, it’s fine”, Jayden grounds out through clenched teeth, still clinging to Blake and not letting him back away. “It’s fine, I just forgot about it. It’ll be fine. Just… _don’t_ …” he pleads through a sigh before aiming a look at Blake. “I don’t want to think about it, Carter. So… _please_ …”

Blake gives Jayden an unconvinced look, like for once in his life he actually stops to take note that something might not be a good idea, but he’s never been able to resist the agent like this; voice breathy, face and body flushed with arousal and lips kiss-swollen…

“ _Fuck_ , Norm”, he curses emphatically, dropping his head to rest his forehead next to Jayden’s. “You’re something else, you know that.”

Jayden releases a small, breathless laugh at that – the sound shooting straight between Blake’s legs – before canting his hips up, fingers squeezing around Blake’s shoulders almost desperately in a voiceless plea.

“Okay, okay, I gotcha”, Blake murmurs into the skin between Jayden’s neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply at the intoxicating scent there. “But you _stop me_ if it hurts, you hear?”

Jayden’s only response is an almost violent shake of his head, and then a relieved, high-pitched groan when Blake’s hand, the one not drawing nonsensical, teasing patterns across his abdomen, dives under his waistband to cup the already prominent hardness there.

Blake almost, _almost_ makes a witty comment about how much Jayden apparently _really_ doesn’t want to think about the burn right now, but the keening, breathy noises the agent keeps making, his hands fisting and un-fisting desperately into the fabric of the arm rest above his head as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with them, the way his back bows beautifully off the couch when Blake moves his hand _just so_ … The thought is gone from his head, forgotten, faster than it can properly even form.

Jayden’s (or are they Blake’s? Neither is sure at this point) loose, well-worn sweatpants slide off delightfully easily, falling away with just the barest urging and a miniscule lift of Jayden’s hips, followed shortly by his underwear. The sight of the agent’s bare, shredded thighs stops Blake short for a moment, until Jayden’s hands at his own waistband snaps him out of his second-guessing.

“Ignore it… _Ignore it_ …”, Jayden is whispering repeatedly, urgently, naked hips lifting sensuously, almost frantically in search of contact.

He’d have to be crazy, Blake thinks, to refuse that command.

After that it’s just breathless, aching moans and grunts of exertion as Blake claims Jayden’s body, thoroughly while still as carefully as he can despite the agent’s demand for otherwise. Though using spit is hardly ideal, it’s all they have, Jayden refusing to even consider unlocking his legs from around Blake’s waist for retrieving something more suitable. “Don’t… _don’t_ …” is all he says, despite the pained clench of his teeth as Blake pushes in.

It doesn’t take long for the expression to fade, though, as Blake sets a steady, deep but unhurried rhythm, one hand wrapped around Jayden, moving in time with his thrusts. Soon the agent’s lips get uncoordinated under his, open in a litany of keening gasps as his body tightens and then locks up, legs squeezing desperately around Blake’s waist and his toes curling as he releases stickily between their bodies.

As if just the sensation of Jayden’s body constricting around him wasn’t enough for Blake, the downright _sinful_ sounds the agent makes as he comes are the final push his mind and body needs, following Jayden with a hard bite to his shoulder.

It’s a long while before either of them can move, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound in the room besides their laboured breaths, Jayden’s still a little high-pitched and distracting.

“You’re a menace, Jayden”, Blake finally says, pressing his lips against the bite mark he just left. It’ll bruise handsomely later, they both know from experience.

Jayden only smiles indulgently at that, his body so high on endorphins he can’t really manage anything more coherent.

Blake finally pulls away with a hiss from them both, lifting himself up to sit on his knees above Jayden, giving the agent a long look, although there is a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “You good?”

Jayden nods, shifting to start getting up when Blake’s sudden snort of a laugh stops him.

“Do you even know how fucking hilarious you look right now, ass-naked in your socks like that?” the older lieutenant chuckles, eyebrow cocked in pointed amusement.

“Bite me, Carter”, Jayden retorts, reaching over to grab and then smack Blake with one of the decorative pillows.

“I was under the assumption that I just did”, Blake drawls with his trademark assholeish smirk while pointing at Jayden’s neck. “But hey, if you want more…”

Jayden only shakes his head with a laugh, before finally starting to pull himself up, a little self-conscious despite himself – until the movement again aggravates his burn wound, making him hunch over himself with a hissed “ _fuck_ ”.

“Okay, you’re letting me see that, whether you like it or not”, Blake says, now no-nonsense as he moves to manoeuvre the agent around enough to peel his shirt off and get a look at the back of his shoulder blade.

“How bad is it?” Jayden asks, slightly dejectedly and perhaps with a small amount of dread in his tone after Blake is quiet for a long moment.

“Fucking hell, Norman”, is Blake’s answer, voice disbelieving and what sounds a little like genuine upset. “It’s fucking nasty, is what it is. You need to go—“

“No”, Jayden interrupts him before Blake can finish. “I’m not going to the hospital. I can’t. We can’t afford a delay like that, not when it could mean Shaun Mars’s life.”

“You…stubborn fucking asshole”, Blake curses with conviction behind him before reaching out to grab Jayden by shoulder and turn him around until they’re face to face. “Look at yourself, Norman! You’re beat to hell and back, and that’s a fucking third degree burn on you. What the hell else is it gonna take?”

“I came here to catch the killer, Blake, and I can’t do it from a hospital, not when these trials—“

“ _Bullshit_ ”, it’s Blake’s turn to interrupt. “You think I’ll hesitate to forcefully drag you over there myself if that’s what it takes?”

“No, but I’d fight you every step of the way.” Jayden’s voice is serious, he means what he just said, even if there’s a carefully amused little quirk of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Goddamn fucking FBI”, Blake curses, throwing his hands up in an annoyed _‘I give up’_ gesture. “But if that shit gets infected…”

“I know”, Jayden says softly with an agreeing, disarming smile, starting to reach for his clothing before leaning over a little hesitantly to brush his lips over Blake’s. “Help me bandage it?”

 

Some time later, Jayden, shoulder now wrapped, is back under Blake’s arm on the couch. He’s just about to nod off – he doesn’t even know what time it is anymore – when Blake suddenly speaks up.

“Hey? Ever considered the possibility that Mars himself might be the killer?”

“Not really, no”, Jayden answers, voice and accent thick with impending sleep. “Although I know you have.” There is no mistaking the amusement in his tone.

“And how the hell would you know that?” There’s mock-affront in Blake’s own tone now.

Jayden chuckles, shifting enough to turn his face up towards his partner’s. “Because I know _you_.”

It’s hard to tell in the darkness of the room, but Jayden could swear he sees Blake’s eyes flash and darken in that familiar way. “Oh yeah?” There is no mistaking the challengingly teasing voice.

“Yeah”, Jayden fires back with a playful tone of his own, before straightening up under the lieutenant’s arm enough to initiate a slow, lazy contact of mouths.

Before either of them runs the risk of getting too much into it, though, Blake pulls back, and, gathering Jayden up close under his arm, stands up from the couch. “Come on, you. We need at least a few hours before we go chasing after the next one.”

 

*

 

Blake blinks awake after what feels like a useless 20-minute nap. The room is veiled in a bleak half-light that can barely even be called that, accompanied by the ceaseless sound of rainfall. _Fucking figures._ Grumpily, the older lieutenant rubs at his eyes that feel like they’re full of sand, before glancing to the side as the distinctly human-shaped mass of covers by his side shifts and lets out what sound like a grumble. Amused, Blake cocks an eyebrow in surprise. In all their time together, he can’t recall a single time that Jayden has out-slept him, no matter how early he was set to rise.

“Hey, agent Early Bird!” he calls while prodding the lump of bedding in the general direction of its side, chuckling unrepentantly when it twitches and mumbles something unintelligent back at him. “Time to go out and catch some bad guys!”

There is a _massive_ sigh, inflating the entire mass of covers, followed by another mumble, before Jayden’s head sticks out from somewhere under it.

It would take a saint to hold back the bark of laughter that escapes Blake then. “Holy fuck, I stand corrected. Agent _Bed-Head_.”

Jayden makes a grimace, half-heartedly tossing his pillow at Blake. “I hate you.”

“Sure”, Blake grins, tossing the pillow right back before getting out bed, forcefully ruffling Jayden’s hair as he passes. “You wanna do the third trial or not, bed bug?”

Heading to the bathroom, Blake _swears_ he hears the _‘not’_ echoing in the agent’s head for a miniscule instant as he flops back down on the bed with a tired sigh, before the sound of someone rolling out of bed and shuffling stiffly down the hallway follow after him.

The humour in Blake’s face dies away as soon as Jayden’s form is bathed in the brightness of the bathroom. The shining fluorescent light is definitely unkind and unforgiving, highlighting all the cuts and bruises on the agent’s body; Jayden looks, if possible, even worse than last night.

“Jesus, Norm”, Blake huffs with a shake of his head.

Jayden makes a helpless expression though the mirror, followed by an equally helpless – and _stiff_ – shrug.

The action only serves to bring Blake’s attention to his shoulder. “How’s the burn?”

“I don’t want to look?” Jayden offers as a way of an answer, the _‘and I don’t want you to look, either’_ clear in his tone.

“Like fuck you don’t.” Blake’s voice is no-nonsense as he moves to grab Jayden’s shirt to pull it off, only have his wrists grabbed and halted by slim hands.

“Carter, please. It’s fine. Just…leave it.”

Blake pulls at his hands stubbornly, only to have Jayden give him an equally unrelenting look in return.

“I swear to –“ Blake curses in a once-in-a-lifetime admittance of defeat, yanking his hands free and sidestepping around Jayden to grab his toothbrush like it has offended him. “You are the most stubborn asshole I’ve ever met, you know that.”

Jayden only chuckles in amusement at that, biting down on the comment he himself could make about stubborn assholes.

 

*

 

_‘ARE YOU PREPARED TO MAKE A SACRIFICE TO SAVE YOUR SON? 9711 MARBLE STREET’_

The words stare up at Jayden from the unfolded piece of green paper as Blake pulls up the at the designated address. The streets are almost silent around them, probably due to the ridiculously early morning. The digital clock on the dashboard doesn’t even read 8 AM yet.

“I don’t like the smell of this one”, Blake is saying, face a mask of suspicious distaste. “This place is dump.”

Jayden hums a worried affirmation under his breath, though frankly he’s more concerned about the word ‘sacrifice’. The wounds on his body suddenly throb uncomfortably.

“Well, we aren’t gonna solve anything sitting out here”, Blake eventually huffs, moving to get out of the car with a final look at Jayden. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go”, Jayden nods somewhat jerkily, following Blake out of the car.

 

The interior of the building is, to both of their surprise, in an even worse shape than the outside, everything charred and sooty as if after a fire. Jayden’s nose wrinkles at the dank smell of it.

“Charming little place”, he finds himself quipping dryly as he scuffs his foot against the grimy floor.

Blake huffs a laugh at that as he leads them up a beat-down staircase, motes of ashy dust floating in the stale air.

“Maybe these are more to your liking, then”, he grins in jest at the green porcelain lizards suddenly lying strewn about the floor. “Look new, at least.”

Jayden, head cocked in what Blake calls his ‘thinking pose’, crouches down next to one to examine it. “They _are_ new. But why would there—“ The lizard he picks up suddenly rattles in his hand as if containing something, prompting the two the share a mirrored look of surprise.

“Smash it?” Blake offers helpfully.

Unable to think of a better solution, Jayden only shrugs before hitting the object hard against the concrete floor, shattering it. Among the pieces of porcelain a key clatters out.

Both of their heads shoot up simultaneously, scanning the hallway for a door – and as luck would have it, there it is, at the far end, with a large green painting of a lizard plastered on it.

With a shared look of caution, they head for the door, guns drawn before Jayden fits the key in its hole.

The doors swings open with a tired creak as they step through it in unison, revealing a mostly empty room, charred and dilapidated as the rest of the building, soot floating lazily in the air.

Relaxing their aim a little, they give the place a cursory check, but find it deserted except for a few pieces of furniture – most notable being a table in the middle of the room with what looks like a GPS sitting on it.

They share another look, before Blake makes a single-shoulder shrug. “Guess that’s what we came for.”

It doesn’t exactly reassure Jayden as he steps up to the table and cautiously reaches to press the button that looks like ‘play’ on the touch screen.

The GPS flares to life, a red light in the upper right corner lighting up as the screen shows a video of themselves standing in front of the device.

_“Are you prepared to suffer to save your son?”_ a familiar female voice speaks up emotionlessly. _“You have five minutes to cut off the last section of one of your fingers in front of the camera. If you succeed, you will get your reward.”_

Jayden feels the air punch out of his lungs as he watches the timer start counting down from five minutes as soon as the female voice has stopped talking. Next to him, he feels Blake stiffen and a sideways glance reveals a muscle twitching at the side of the lieutenant’s jaw from where he’s biting down on his teeth too hard.

For a precious amount of seconds they only stand in stunned silence, Jayden trying to find something to say, but finding nothing comes out when he opens his mouth, closes it and then opens it again uselessly. Belatedly it makes him feel like a goldfish and he clamps his mouth shut with an almost audible snap.

It isn’t until then that his eyes land on the uncomfortably sharp-looking knife on the table, and his insides _twist_ as bile threatens to rise up to his throat. _No fucking way_ , and he isn’t sure if the thought comes from himself or from Blake.

But at the same time his mind flashes back to the image of young Shaun Mars, _so young_ , slowly drowning in a well full of rain water as he tries to desperately to call out for his father to rescue him. He can almost taste the despair radiating from the child and his insides twist again. What is a piece of a finger compared to that…?

Slowly, as if almost unaware he’s doing it, Jayden finds himself bringing his left hand up, turning it around and looking at it evaluatively. He could. After everything he’s already done, maybe –

Blake’s hand is suddenly there, snatching and holding Jayden’s away from him in a firm, determined, _warm_ grip, causing Jayden’s thought process to grind into a screaming halt. It is almost dangerously close to holding hands, a line in affectionate gestures neither of them has yet to even come close to crossing, despite everything. It makes Jayden look up from his contemplation, eyes wide, to find Blake giving him a hard look.

“Don’t. Don’t you even fucking _think_ about it”, he’s saying as his fingers squeeze even harder around Jayden’s hand. It makes the agent’s breath grow shorter, and not simply from the sting of pressure.

“I already bandaged you once within the last 24 hours. Don’t make me do it again.” The words might sound selfish to someone else, but Jayden thinks he hears volumes of something completely else in the tone of Blake’s voice. It’s not his own discomfort the older cop is worried about.

“But—“ Jayden starts, only to have Blake bulldoze right over him.

“If you say _‘Shaun Mars’_ , so help me, I’m going to shoot you myself and hide the body.”

Jayden can’t help it: he laughs at that. It’s edgy and perhaps slightly hysterical and definitely inappropriate, but it bursts out of him before he can do anything to stop it. He can feel Blake giving him an odd, mildly concerned lift of an eyebrow, as well as a slight sense of pressure of wetness in the corner of his own eyes, but damned if he’s going to try to analyze either of those right now.

Or the fact that they are, for all intents and purposes, still holding hands, Blake’s a protective vice-like grip around his. As if for as long he’s holding Jayden’s hand captive, the agent won’t be able to do anything to it.

“Fuck, Jayden, we aren’t going to start mutilating ourselves for this shit! There’s gotta be a better way”, Blake is saying, obviously not releasing their hands until he’s driven his point home to Jayden.

Jayden wants to argue, he really does, wants to go with the feeling that says he has to do whatever it takes to save this child – it’s a piece of finger for a life – but suddenly he’s tired. His wounds, his burned shoulder, his whole body suddenly aches, and for the first time he sees the situation, the tableau they’re locked in, for the madness that it is.

“Blake…” he starts to say, voice weary as he sags against the older cop. He doesn’t have the strength to first make this decision and then argue about it.

_“You have 20 seconds left”_ , a voice suddenly echoes in the room, startling them both and interrupting whatever it was Jayden was about to say.

Attempting to pull his hand away, Jayden gives Blake an almost haunted look.

“I’m not gonna let you”, Blake says in answer, his grip holding fast despite Jayden’s attempts. “I watched you crawl into that pipe and come out almost dead. This time I’m not gonna let you.”

_“You have 10 seconds.”_

“Blake…”

_“9…”_

“No.”

_“8…”_

“One of us has to!”

_“7…”_

_“6…”_

_“5…”_

“Blake!”

_“4…”_

“Dammit, _Norman_ , I said no!”

_“3…”_

All Jayden has is a look. “Blake, please, if we don’t—“

_“2…”_

Blake’s answer is stubborn squeeze of Jayden’s hand. “We’ll find another way. It isn’t worth _this_!”

_“1…”_

Jayden has just time enough to swallow around what would have probably been a _‘yes, it is’_ before the voice on the GPS declares: _“You’ve run out of time. You’ve failed.”_

Jayden’s jaw clenches, his hand giving a twitch where it’s still being held by Blake’s. He can almost feel Shaun’s life slipping away from him.

“Hey”, Blake is saying, releasing – finally – Jayden’s hand and grasping him by the chin to force the agent to look at him. “We’ll find another way. We’ll get to him. Just…not like this.”

Jayden lets out a sigh, unable to stop his eyes from wandering to the fingers of his left hand. Well, it’s a lost opportunity now.

“The next one”, he says. “We _have to_ do the next one, no matter what, Blake. I’m not gonna let Shaun Mars die.”

Blake shoots him a meaningful look at the mention of the name, but for once doesn’t push the issue further. “C’mon”, he only says, tugging Jayden along by the arm, though it doesn’t escape Jayden’s notice that Blake’s hand rests considerably closer to the his than it has before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor friggin' Jayden just _really_ wanted to cut his damn finger off, but that was not that route I was going to take with this, mostly because that wasn't in the original prompt. Hope I still managed to make it work!


End file.
